


It's All Greek to Me

by Cinaed



Series: The Best of Carolina The Teenage Witch [38]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sabrina the Teenage Witch Fusion, Developing Relationship, F/M, M/M, Magic, Miscommunication, Teenage Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:36:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24510133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinaed/pseuds/Cinaed
Summary: Miscommunication and misunderstandings abound as Carolina attends a special dinner, Church feels like a third wheel, and Simmons spends some time at the leyline.
Relationships: Agent Carolina & Agent Washington (Red vs. Blue), Dexter Grif/Dick Simmons, Michael J. Caboose & Leonard L. Church, Michael J. Caboose/Sheila
Series: The Best of Carolina The Teenage Witch [38]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1183436
Comments: 10
Kudos: 42





	It's All Greek to Me

**Author's Note:**

> Here's another episode of Teenage Witch! This one was a fun one to write. :D I used Google Translate for this episode since I figured writers in 1998 wouldn't do very well with multiple languages. 
> 
> Hope everyone is staying safe. 
> 
> Thanks as always to Aryashi for helping me with it!

Grif taps a paw at the remote and changes the channel. He’s annoyed that there’s nothing good on. He’s definitely not annoyed by the fact that it’s a Saturday and Simmons has been at the leyline for hours. Six, if anyone’s watching the clock and keeping track, which he isn’t.

Besides, Simmons doing his experiments at the leyline is better than jumping up whenever Kai does magic and doing the first spell that pops into his head just to get some use out of the effluvium. That instinct has led to baskets of fruit, since apparently that’s where Simmons’ mind goes with spells after so many basic lessons with Leonard. Grif is getting really tired of bananas. 

When the door opens, Grif debates pretending not to notice Simmons coming in.

But then Simmons walks past him without so much as glancing towards him, a pink flush in his face.

Grif can’t help but drawl, “Hello to you too, dude.”

Simmons stops. His expression goes distinctly shifty. Seriously, the guy has the opposite of a poker-face. Grif knows he's hiding something even before Simmons hesitates and then gives Grif a super awkward wave.

Grif narrows his eyes. “Spill,” he says. When Simmons tries to give him an innocent look, he snorts. Even if Simmons wasn't an awful liar, Grif raised Kai for a century. He knows when something’s up. “Nice try. You’ve got ‘I’m hiding something’ on your forehead.”

Simmons actually reaches up, as though to feel for the letters. Then he drops his hands and assumes that dumb blank look from before, like he has no idea what Grif is talking about.

It’s annoying, actually. Grif tries not to let his tail twitch, but he thinks of Simmons’ lessons with Leonard, where Simmons kept trying to hide how he was overdoing his magic. He stares, trying to figure out if Simmons looks pale or tired. Was he stuck at the leyline for a bit, dizzy again? Grif thought he'd learned his lesson. 

Simmons avoids his eyes and heads towards the kitchen.

Grif jumps off the couch and follows. He watches Simmons grab a coffee mug from the cupboard. When Simmons heads towards the coffeemaker, like coffee is a good idea at five in the afternoon, Grif launches himself up onto the counter.

He just means to get in Simmons’ way. He doesn’t mean to make Simmons drop the mug.

It shatters on the floor and Simmons yelps.

“Γαμώτο, Grif, μου άρεσε αυτή η κούπα!”

Grif stares at him as Simmons goes bright red.

“Μην πεις λέξη,” he mumbles, pointing at Grif.

It clicks in Grif's head. He looks at Simmons’ offended face and does the only reasonable thing.

He laughs.

He laughs so hard he almost falls off the counter, but it’s worth it just to watch Simmons look even more offended.

* * *

Church is trying to open a bag of chips when Carolina comes into the kitchen. He blinks at her, taking in her blue-green dress and her hair, pulled into a fancy braid instead of her usual ponytail.

She catches his look of surprise and says, “Tonight’s the awards ceremony for Wash’s mom, remember? I figured I’d dress up a little.”

“Right,” Church says. He remembers Carolina telling him about it, but he hadn’t really been paying attention. He gives her a winning smile. “If the food’s good, get me a goody bag?”

Carolina makes a face, but she smiles back. “You can literally create food. Why do you want food you’ll have to reheat?”

Church shrugs. “Free food is free food.” He tries to open the bag, but it’s defective or something.

“Uh huh.” Carolina looks amused. She reaches over and grabs the bag. He definitely almost had it, because she tears it open in one try and hands it back with an even more amused, “You’re welcome.”

Church rolls his eyes and stuffs a fistful of chips into his mouth.

Carolina’s amusement is replaced by a grimace. She shakes her head. “Gross. You’re so gross. I hope you’re not this gross when you’re hanging out with Caboose at his house.”

Church snorts. He almost presses his luck, but he swallows before he tells her, “He has seventeen sisters. No one is paying attention to how I eat.”

Carolina raises an eyebrow. “Yeah. Isn’t Sheila going to be there too?”

Church tries not to grimace. He’d agreed to hang out before he’d found out Sheila was going to be there, and then hadn’t had the heart to put a kicked puppy look on Caboose’s face by backing out. It’s going to be an awkward night.

Whatever his expression is, it makes Carolina sigh and cross her arms. “Are you _still_ being weird about Sheila?”

“I’m not being weird!” Church denies. “I just think Caboose is being weird. Why would he invite us both over at the same time?”

Carolina stares at him. “Uh, because he likes hanging out with both of you?”

“Three’s a crowd.”

Carolina snorts. “And yet you hang out with him and Tucker all the time.”

“That’s not the same,” Church protests. She just looks at him. Does he really have to explain the weirdness of watching Caboose look all lovestruck at Sheila for three hours? “Would _you_ wanna hang out with friends on a date?”

Carolina’s expression doesn’t change. Actually, she might look even more amused. “I hang out with Connie and her boyfriend all the time.”

“Good for you,” Church mumbles.

Carolina gives him a look. “Don’t be weird about Sheila. She’s nice.”

“Whatever.”

* * *

Grif is never going to let him live this down, Simmons thinks glumly.

The worst part is that Simmons can’t even defend himself, though he’s tried with a handful of gestures that had just made Grif laugh harder at him. How was he supposed to know that apparently sometimes witches can overload their brains and accidentally go all Tower of Babel? No one had mentioned it. It feels like something Doctor Church might have mentioned now that he was doing independent study. 

All Simmons knows is that one minute he was writing down some notes and the next minute he was squinting at the page and realizing he’d written an entire page in a language he didn’t recognize.

Hopefully it’ll wear off soon, like Grif thinks. Simmons is really tired of pantomiming and the last time he tried to write out a note to ask Grif a question, he’d written it in hieroglyphics.

He flips through his notes, frowning at all his wasted time. There are other words in other languages that crop up in his notes, totally messing up his work long before he switched entirely from English into twenty different shifting languages. Some stuff he can probably figure out from context clues, but the rest-- It's going to take a while to redo his day's work. 

“Try saying something now,” Grif suggests. His whiskers twitch in a feline smirk as he says, “Maybe something like ‘Grif was right about doing too much magic.’ Whatever feels natural.”

Simmons frowns. For a second he’s tempted to stay quiet. Then his own curiosity gets the better of him.

“Jeg vil virkelig tale engelsk igen.”

Grif snorts. “Yeah, okay.” His tail twitches. “Maybe it’s like the flu? You need a magic free zone. We can chill at Locus’ apartment.”

“Du kannst mich nicht einfach in seine Wohnung einladen,” Simmons says, inwardly cringing at the thought of showing up at Locus’ door speaking whatever language he’s spouting now. German, maybe? It kind of sounded like the German he’s heard students mangling at the school.

“Gonna take that as a yes,” Grif says, ignoring Simmons’ rolled eyes. He heads towards the door.

“Sie wissen dass es nicht war,” Simmons mutters, but he follows.

Locus isn’t an expressive guy, but his eyebrows rise a little when Grif launches into his explanation of Simmons’ predicament. His gaze moves slowly between Grif and Simmons, who knows that his face is flushed as Grif makes Simmons sound like an idiot.

“--and now Simmons can’t speak English,” Grif concludes. “Tell him, Simmons.”

Simmons scowls for a second and then says, “Duìbùqǐ, tā bǎ wǒ tuō dào zhèlǐle. Xīwàng wǒmen bùyào dǎrǎo nín.” He accompanies the words with an apologetic gesture even if Locus doesn’t look annoyed. It still feels rude to barge in on him when he’s clearly getting ready for a night shift at his latest job. Simmons thinks it's at a convenience store. Maybe a grocery store? 

Locus sighs. “I never experienced this myself,” he says. “I heard about it. It should wear off in a few hours.” He glances between them again. “If it persists, reach out to your witch friends.”

“But y--” Grif stops. His tail twitches. “Yeah. Right.”

Simmons grimaces, imagining Doctor Grey’s excitement if he and Grif show up on her doorstep. He rubs at his head. “Wǒ bù xīwàng géléi yīshēng zài wǒ de nǎodai lǐ chuō chuō.”

Locus glances at his watch. “I need to go.” He pauses. Simmons can’t tell if he’s being polite or actually means it when he adds, “You can stay here, if you think it might help.” It’s probably sincere. Turns out Locus is an okay guy when he’s not working with Felix. And he makes pretty good soup when people are sick.

Simmons interrupts before Grif can say anything. “Tā zài gōngzuò shí, wǒmen bù zhù zài zhèlǐ.”

Apparently his tone gets his opinion across, because Grif’s ears twitch and he says, “Nah. Just thought you might know more about it.”

“I don’t,” Locus says.

Grif looks up at Simmons. “Maybe a nap would help? Give your brain a break?”

“Vy prosto khotite vzdremnut,” Simmons mutters at him.

Grif heads towards the door. “Yep, great idea.”

Simmons gives one more apologetic look towards Locus and then follows.

* * *

“Hi, Carolina!” Wash’s mom says warmly. She smiles as Carolina climbs into the passenger seat. “Don’t you look nice.”

“Thanks,” Carolina says. “You look nice too.”

Wash’s mom almost touches her face, like she’s not used to wearing makeup, and laughs. “It’s a nice opportunity to dress up. Somehow the animals at the shelter don’t think much of my lipstick.”

Carolina smiles. Then she twists to look at Wash, who’s stuck between his sisters in the backseat. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he says back.

Miranda looks pleased with herself, bracing her shoes against the back of the driver’s seat to admire them.

Like her polar opposite, Olivia looks furious. She’s slouched, her arms crossed against her chest. When she tries to yank her hair out of one pigtail, Wash grabs her hands. She shrieks in outrage. “Mom! He’s touching me!”

Wash’s mom sighs. “Olivia, you wanted the pigtails, remember?”

“No, they’re dumb,” Olivia says.

Carolina glances at Wash, who gives her a long-suffering look and lets go. Well, this is one reason she came. She wanted to see Wash’s mom win her award, but she also figured Wash would have his hands full trying to keep his sisters entertained the whole time. She smiles at Olivia. “Well, I like your pigtails.”

Olivia just glares as she yanks the barrettes out of her hair.

“Well,” Wash’s mom says brightly as she reverses out of the driveway. “How have you been? I feel like we never see you anymore!”

Carolina blinks. She hasn’t really been to Wash’s house in a while. She’s been spending more time with her dad and Church, and Wash has been putting in more volunteer hours at the shelter, so they’ve been hanging out during track practice and occasionally with everyone else at the Slicery. “I’ve been a little busy, but maybe I’ll come over soon.”

“Well, you’re always welcome,” Wash’s mom says with a smile.

* * *

One of Church’s favorite things about Caboose’s house is how loud it is. Any given second at least one or two of Caboose’s sisters are screaming about something. It kind of explains Caboose’s zero ability to use an indoor voice, but also Church is pretty sure Caboose would still yell even if he had three sisters instead of seventeen.

Of course, cramming nineteen people in one home means Caboose’s room is tiny. It’s made even smaller by Caboose and Sheila both being tall. Church stands in the doorway and watches them do an awkward shuffle as they try to figure out where to sit.

Finally Sheila sits at Caboose’s desk and Caboose sits down on his bed.

Church is surprised that they didn’t just sit together on the bed. Maybe they’re worried about Caboose’s mom poking her head in? “So what are we doing?” he asks. He remembers Carolina telling him not to be weird around Sheila, and makes a point of glancing between Sheila and Caboose as he asks.

Caboose beams. “Chloe bought me a robotics kit for Christmas, so I thought we could do it together!” He pulls a box out from under his bed.

Sheila smiles. “That is a wonderful idea.”

“Yeah, sounds good to me,” Church says. He sits cross-legged on the floor and then lunges for the door as Freckles pokes his head in. The last thing they need is Caboose’s huge dog in here. The last thing _Church_ needs is Freckles in here. Church pushes, but he might as well have stayed where he was.

Freckles squeezes through the open door. He makes an immediate beeline towards Church, who really shouldn’t have sat on the floor.

“Caboose, tell your dog to-- Ugh!” Church jerks away too late as Freckles licks him. He rubs at the slobber clinging to his ear. When Freckles goes in for another lick, almost trampling him in his excitement, Church fends him off with an elbow. “Caboose!”

“Freckles,” Caboose calls, patting the bed. When Freckles just stares at Church, wet nose dangerously close to dripping onto Church’s shirt, Caboose says a little louder, “Freckles! Come here!”

Freckles sighs, somehow radiating reluctance as he obeys, detouring only to lay his head on Sheila’s knee and woof softly at her. Sheila smiles down at him, patting him on the head, and says to Church, “He really likes you.”

“Yeah, a little too much,” Church says. He wipes more slobber off his face as Freckles climbs up on the bed and then immediately positions himself so that he can stare at Church the rest of the night. _Such_ a weird dog.

“Shall we read the instructions?” Sheila asks.

Church snorts before he realizes she’s serious. “Uh. Good idea.”

Caboose pauses in the middle of opening the box. The excitement on his face goes from a hundred percent to a hundred and thirty as he says, “Oh, if we do a really good job, we could bring it to school and show it to Mr. Simmons!”

Sheila smiles again. “I think he would like that very much, Caboose.”

Caboose flushes, looking pleased and sappy.

Church gets that instant third wheel feeling in the pit of his stomach. Any second now they’re going to start staring into each other’s eyes or something. He plucks at the hem of his hoodie. “Yeah, unless it turns out awful. Then we let Freckles bury it in the backyard.”

Caboose blinks. Confusion clouds his expression. “It won’t be awful.”

“I believe Church was joking,” Sheila says.

“Oh!” Caboose laughs. He nods. “Yeah, cause you and Church are really smart. It’s going to be great!”

“Uh huh,” Church says. He can hear Carolina’s voice in his ear, hissing at him to be nice. He uncrosses and crosses his legs, trying to figure out what to say.

Then one of Caboose’s sisters screams, a full-volume shriek that makes him wince.

Caboose and Freckles don’t react, but Sheila jumps.

“Is that one of your sisters? Is she all right?”

“Oh, that’s just Rachel,” Caboose says. He glances between the door and Sheila, who doesn’t look reassured. He hesitates. He stands up, earning a surprised noise from Freckles. “I’ll go see why she’s yelling.”

Of course, that leaves Church alone with Sheila.

He tries to figure out something to say as Sheila looks around the room, taking in the family photographs, art, and space posters that decorate the walls. He sees the second that she spots the plastic bottle robot Caboose made during that first club meeting, because her expression softens.

“He kept it?”

Church squirms. “Yeah. Minus a googly eye. Pretty sure that Freckles ate-- aw, crap!”

Freckles bounds off the bed like saying his name was a command and barrels into Church. It’s only Church’s back bumping against the dresser that keeps Church from being knocked flat as Freckles climbs into his lap like he’s a poodle instead of a Newfie.

Church tries to shove him off, but it’s like trying to shove a mountain. “Ugh.” He looks over Freckles’ head at Sheila, who’s got her hand up over her mouth and is clearly trying not to laugh. “So. Uh. The instructions?”

* * *

Kai is busy checking out the bars and party scene of Westbridge. Grif figures she’ll come home disappointed and griping about the place being boring, but that won’t be another couple of hours if he knows her. Which means Grif can curl up in Simmons’ lap while they nap without her walking in and making it weird.

He sleeps for a while, sprawled across Simmons’ thighs until Simmons shifting wakes him up. He yawns and looks up at Simmons, who’s fumbling with his glasses. Grif searches his face, pleased that he looks a little better than he did before the nap.

“Virket det?” Simmons asks. He looks pissed the second the words leave his mouth. “Kom igjen! Jeg gjorde ikke så mye magi! Dette er dumt.”

“Clearly, you just didn’t nap long enough,” Grif says. He’s not surprised by the dirty look that gets him. He pats Simmons’ knee. “Look, it’s Saturday. If you’re still talking nonsense tomorrow, we’ll go talk to Grey.”

“Jeg vil ikke at hun skal studere meg,” Simmons mutters. Grif still has no idea what he’s saying, but the tone and Simmons’ expression gets his point across anyway. He doesn’t want to tell Grey about this.

“Yeah, it’s Grey or Leonard. Take your pick.”

Simmons grimaces. Clearly he’s not sure which choice is worse.

Grif doesn’t feel much sympathy. He’d thought Simmons had learned his lessons about overdoing it with magic after everything with Leonard, but apparently not. He snorts and stretches. “We could watch a movie.”

Simmons sighs. “Men jeg liker å snakke om filmen med deg.”

“Not hearing a no,” Grif says. At least a movie might distract Simmons, who’s still looking frustrated. “No sounds the same in most languages, right?”

“ʻAʻole ʻiʻo nō kēlā,” Simmons says peevishly.

“You can’t prove it’s not true,” Grif says, just to annoy him, and then freezes as his brain replays the last few seconds and he realizes that he understood what Simmons was saying.

Grif spills out of Simmons’ lap, turning the fall into a jump to the ground as Simmons starts in surprise. Excitement lights up Simmons’ face, and then confusion. “E kali, ua ʻike ʻoe i ka mea aʻu i ʻōlelo ai? Akā, ʻaʻole au--”

Kai and Grif’s first language is Hawaiian. It’s still a weird hard switch in his brain, listening to Simmons speak it and translating it into English just because that’s what Simmons should be speaking.

“You’re speaking Hawaiian,” Grif says in Hawaiian, and that’s weird too. He hasn’t spoken it since he became a familiar. He twitches his tail, uncomfortable with the whole thing, even if it means he can understand Simmons.

Except Simmons blanches as Grif speaks. “Oh great. It’s getting worse. Now I don’t know what you’re saying!”

Grif hastily switches to English, ignoring the stupid pang of regret. Maybe he’ll just talk to Kai later. She probably hasn't been speaking Hawaiian partying her way through the galaxy and the Other Realm. “No, you’re speaking Hawaiian, dude. I understand you. Quick, did you do something stupid at the leyline or what?”

“No, I was just--” Simmons stops. His brow furrows. “Wait, how does this make sense? I’m speaking languages and I can’t understand them at all? Shouldn’t I-- I know what I’m _trying_ to say but I can’t understand it!”

“Don’t know what to tell you, dude. But magic gets weird when you do too much of it.”

“I didn’t do too much!” Simmons says, a guilty flush creeping into his face.

Grif snorts. “You’re a terrible liar. We’re so lucky that the stooge is stupid.”

Simmons frowns. “I can’t understand you if you speak Hawaiian….”

Grif blinks before he realizes he's answered in Hawaiian. This is so weird. He licks the tip of his nose. “Yeah, yeah. So seriously, what stupid stuff did you do at the leyline? Did you try a new spell?”

“I didn’t do anything stupid,” Simmons protests. “I just-- Maybe I was there a little longer than I intended, I just--” He stops and rolls his eyes at Grif’s expression. “I didn’t do any new spells!”

Grif debates calling him a liar, but doesn’t say anything as Simmons sighs.

“I don’t want to tell Doctor Grey or Doctor Church about this unless I have to.”

Simmons sounds miserable.

Grif licks his nose again. “Yeah, well. I’d cross my fingers that you’ll wake up tomorrow speaking English and we can keep it between you, me, and Locus, but--” He waves a paw.

Simmons doesn’t smile at that, but he looks a little less upset. “I should write to Doctor Church. Maybe there’s a recommended amount of time to spend at a leyline.” He makes a face. “Once I’m not writing in Hawaiian or Greek or whatever’s next….”

“Sounds like a plan,” Grif says. He silently hopes that Leonard gives him a limit of a couple hours, but Leonard is just as much of a nerd as Simmons. It’s probably wishful thinking. He walks towards the TV and Simmons’ VHS collection. “So, movie time? What are we thinking, classic Hollywood, sci-fi, horror?”

“Talvez algo de ficção científica,” Simmons says, followed by a frustrated groan. When Grif looks back at him, he’s rubbing a fist across his mouth, like he can somehow knock the wrong languages off his lips.

“...Yeah, maybe you should just choose,” Grif says. “Unless you wanna play a dumb game of Charades.”

Simmons sighs.

“And hey, if you dial, I’ll order pizza,” Grif adds.

Maybe he’ll even be nice and order Simmons’ favorite toppings.

* * *

Carolina has been to plenty of events like this one, though they were usually charity dinners instead of award ceremonies.

Still, they’re all pretty much the same when you’re a kid. There’s not going to be too many kids your own age, if any, and you’re probably not going to get to talk to them anyway. You’ll be expected to sit and be quiet, or, sometimes worse, have to make conversation with adults who don’t know how to talk to kids and ask the same three or four questions and then ignore you. It’s a fifty-fifty shot if the food will be good.

Carolina leans down to Olivia, who’s still scowling, and says, “At least the food’s okay.”

Olivia gives her a look. “The food’s gross. Becky is having pizza.”

Carolina blinks at the non sequitur.

Wash sighs. “It’s not Mom’s fault you didn’t tell her about Becky’s party until today.” He says it in a tone that suggests he’s repeating himself. When Olivia just glares, he gives Carolina a little shrug.

Carolina gives a little shrug back and then tries one more time. “Yeah, I've had to go to a lot of dinners like this too with my mom and dad, and the food wasn’t always good. But my mom always took us someplace nice the next day. Maybe you can get pizza tomorrow?”

“I want pizza _now._ ”

“Just let her sulk,” Wash advises.

Miranda, meanwhile, has eaten her food as quickly as possible, and is now half asleep in Wash’s lap. “I wanna clap for Mom,” she mumbles, head threatening to lower right into Wash’s food.

“She hasn’t gotten her award yet,” Wash says. He shifts so that she tips back, his chest now a pillow instead of potentially his plate. “I’ll wake you up when it's her turn.”

“She gets to _sleep_?” Olivia says, looking outraged.

Wash sighs. “She’ll be awake for the important part.”

Olivia glares.

Carolina hastily interjects. “My mom and I would play a fun game during these dinners,” she tells Olivia. “We’d look around at people and make up life stories for them.” She gets hit with that pang she always gets talking about her mom. It’s been a little easier since Church told her about his visit, how he’d talked to her mom. Knowing she was doing okay helped, even if it doesn’t make the days go any faster.

Olivia shoots her a suspicious look. “Stories? What kind of stories?”

“Like….” Carolina glances around and spies a woman wearing a hat that’s bright purple and covered in feathers. She nods in her direction. “Like her.” She tries to think of what kind of silly story her mom would make up, one that would earn an eyebrow raise from her dad. “That hat is clearly a distraction. She’s probably a cat burglar, here to see who are the richest people in Westbridge.”

Olivia stares at her for a second. Then she squints at the woman and goes, a little scornfully, “She’s not a cat burglar, she’s a _spy_.”

“Oh, right,” Carolina says, amused. “A spy.”

“She’s spying on that guy,” Olivia decides, pointing at a guy in the middle of fiddling with his tie.

Carolina catches Wash watching them. His eyebrows are raised. “So,” he says, and then stops. After a second, he shakes his head and says, a faint smile on his face, “Fun game.”

“We go to a lot of fundraisers,” Carolina explains.

“Right,” Wash says.

“And _he’s_ a murderer and poisoned _her_ soup,” Olivia declares with relish, loud enough that someone at the next table looks over, confused.

Maybe this wasn’t the best game to suggest.

* * *

“Done!” Caboose announces, beaming.

Church stares at the little black and red robot. It’s actually pretty cool looking. According to the box it can go pretty much any direction other than up and down.

When Caboose sets it onto the floor, it starts to lurch a little drunkenly, obeying Sheila’s commands to its control box. It moves unsteadily towards Church and then towards Caboose, bumping against Caboose’s knee.

Sheila smiles. “Mr. Simmons will definitely enjoy this on Monday.”

Freckles has been banished back to the bed. Now he briefly switches his staring from Church to the robot, his ears pricking up in interest. He lets out a questioning woof as Sheila makes the robot do a 360 degree turn.

Church snorts. He can picture the future destruction as if he’s done a divination spell. “You should show it to your mom before Freckles steps on it.”

“Good idea!” Caboose says. He carefully picks up the robot, cupping it gingerly in his hands.

Sheila watches him maneuver out into the hallway as Freckles jumps down and immediately follows. Church can sometimes find her hard to read, with all her faint smiles and frowns, but not right now, when her expression is soft, her eyes bright.

Three’s a crowd, he remembers telling Carolina. Even with Caboose not in the room, it still feels true.

“You really like him, don’t you?”

The question slips out without Church thinking about it. His face gets hot when Sheila blinks at him in surprise. Why did he ask something so stupid? He has a second of wishing he could get away with a memory spell, another second of knowing he’d feel like a huge jerk if he did, and then Sheila tilts her head and answers him.

“Yes, of course,” she says matter-of-factly. Her smile, briefly gone during her surprise, returns. “Caboose is nice and kind and smart and _very_ funn--”

If he lets her, she’s going to spend the next minute talking about how awesome Caboose is. Caboose will walk in and probably swoon over all the compliments, and then the rest of the night will get even more awkward.

Church groans quietly. “I know I asked, but you don’t have to list all the reasons you’re dating.”

Sheila’s expression goes blank. “Excuse me?”

Church blinks, and then thinks about how that sounded. Crap, that had been rude. Carolina is going to be so mad at him. “Uh, I just meant, you know….”

“Caboose and I are not dating,” Sheila says.

Church laughs. “Uh huh.”

She stares at him.

“Uh,” Church says, staring back. His amusement gives way to confusion. “What? But he--” He thinks about how Caboose looks at her. And how she looks at him. “But you-- but-- I--”

He’s still trying to wrap his brain around it when Caboose walks back in.

“She thought it was really cool!” Caboose announces. Then he seems to notice the awkwardness, because he frowns and glances between them.

“ _You’re not dating_?!”

Church doesn’t mean to screech. He doesn’t mean to sound accusing either. But the whole thing is ridiculous. Tucker and Carolina aren’t going to believe him. No one’s going to believe him.

Caboose freezes in place. His face gets slowly red. “Um. No?”

“Caboose,” Sheila says slowly. “Why does Church think we are dating?”

“Um,” Caboose says again. Even his ears are red now. His mouth opens, and then closes. “Um. Because. Because…”

Church stares in disbelief as Caboose gets tongue-tied. Has this been happening the entire time? Have they been doing some stupid romantic comedy thing where they’re both silently pining and stuff? Did he hit his head and end up in one of those movies Kimball likes so much?

He buries his face in his hands. This is somehow even worse than being the third wheel.

“Just gonna say it and then I’m gonna leave. Caboose has had a crush on you since your first day. And you’re harder to read, but you like him, too right? Everyone thinks you guys are dating. I mean, _everyone_. So...maybe talk about that after I leave.”

He pulls his hands away just in time to watch Caboose, still flushed, gawk at Sheila.

“You, um. Like me?”

“After I leave,” Church hisses, but it’s like he’s not even in the room anymore. Except he is, because Caboose is blocking the exit, which means Church is stuck here, watching Sheila’s face slowly light up.

“Yes,” she says. “Very much.”

Caboose takes a deep breath. “And would you like to be my girlfriend?”

Sheila’s smile widens as she nods.

Church is seriously considering stopping time just to escape, but then Caboose barrels forward. He bolts for the door as Caboose starts to hug Sheila, remembers the robot in his hands, and then sets it on the desk as Sheila stands up.

The last thing Church sees as he closes the door is Caboose lifting Sheila into a hug.

“Church?” Caboose’s mom asks, pausing in the hallway with a basket of laundry. She peers at him. “Are you all right? You look a little flushed.”

“Uh.” Church gives her an awkward smile. “Just think I’ll call Grey to pick me up.”

Caboose’s mom looks at him for a second. Then she looks at the closed door. He can see her putting two and two together. “The phone is in the kitchen,” she says.

Church makes a hasty retreat to the kitchen while she knocks on the bedroom door.

* * *

Simmons tries to pay attention to the movie. But he can’t resist talking every couple of minutes, trying to see if he can finally speak English again.

“C'est tellement stupide. Quand cela s'arrêtera-t-il?”

Grif gives him a look, licking pizza sauce off his paw. “Well, I can guess what stupide means.”

Simmons sighs. Then he jumps as the front door slams open.

“Westbridge’s party scene is ducking lame,” Kai announces, stomping into the room. She glances at the TV and then grabs a piece of pizza off of Grif’s plate, ignoring his grumbled protest. “Anyone wanna go to a bar in the Other Realm?”

Grif gives her a look.

She stares back. “So? Yes or no?”

“No,” Grif says.

Kai rolls her eyes. “There are bars that allow familiars, Dex. You could still have fun.”

“Uh huh,” Grif says with zero enthusiasm.

Kai glances at Simmons. “So, you feeling less lame than my bro?”

Before Simmons can try to answer her in whatever language he’s speaking now, Grif gives a little shake of his head. “He’s mortal, remember?”

Kai snorts. “Oh yeah.” She grins, like it’s a joke.

“No estoy loco,” Simmons says testily. It’s a lost cause, he knows. He’s tried a couple times to convince Kai that he’s really a mortal who can do magic, but so far she just keeps thinking he’s crazier.

Kai blinks at him. “No sabía que hablas español, amigo. Agradable!”

“Yeah, he doesn’t know what you’re saying,” Grif says. “Did too much magic and fried his brain for the night.”

“Seriously?” Kai asks. She squints at Simmons, who flushes.

“No es cómo lo habría expresado, pero no entiendo lo que estás diciendo. Solo entiendo inglés.”

“Wow,” Kai says. She pauses. “Did you try taking a nap? Reset your dumb brain?”

“Si. No funcionó.”

Kai nods. Then she reaches out and smacks him in the head.

Simmons yelps and almost falls on top of Grif, who spits in surprise. His head rings. “You hit me!” he says disbelievingly. He touches his head and is almost surprised when his fingers don't come away bloody.

Kai grins, unfazed by his outrage. “Worked, didn’t it?”

“It doesn’t matter if it-- wait.” Simmons looks down at Grif, who blinks up at him. He touches his throat instead and says slowly, sagging against the couch in baffled relief, “Why did-- what--”

Kai keeps grinning. “Reset your brain. So, you wanna go to Jupiter?”

“That’s so--” Simmons squawks. “That-- How-- Why did that work?!”

Simmons loves magic. But sometimes magic and its occasional cartoon logic is _really_ frustrating. He rubs his head again and scowls.

“You’re ducking welcome, by the way.”

Simmons starts to snap that he’s not going to thank her for hitting him. But he guesses she did get him speaking English again. “Thanks, I guess?” he mumbles, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

“Have fun on Jupiter,” Grif says.

Kai makes a face down at him. “You guys are so lame. I’m gonna get you to party with me one of these days,” she declares. She claps her hands and changes into a new outfit. Then she steals one more pizza slice. “Later, losers.”

As the thunder cracks, Grif flops against Simmons’ side. “Look on the bright side,” he says, amusement in his voice. “We don’t have to tell Grey or Leonard about this.”

“Hooray,” Simmons says, even more sarcastically.

* * *

“I’m telling you guys, they weren’t dating! I mean, they’re dating _now_ , but they weren’t before Saturday!”

Church’s announcement on the front lawn of Westbridge High is met with varying reactions but mostly disbelief.

Tucker squints at him. “I don’t get the joke.” He pauses and makes a face. “I mean, besides the joke of Caboose getting a girlfriend before me.”

“It’s not a joke,” Church snaps.

No one seems impressed by the revelation. In fact, most people aren’t even listening anymore. Wash leans towards Carolina, ignoring Church entirely. His voice is deadpan as he says, “So Olivia, uh, really loves that game you taught her. She’s decided our neighbor is a werewolf.”

Carolina winces. “Oh. Tell your mom I’m sorry?”

“Werewolf? What did you guys do this weekend?” Niner asks, glancing between them.

Apparently no one believes him. Church crosses his arms and says, “Just wait until Cab--”

“ _CHURCH! CHURCH!”_

Church barely gets a chance to look up before Caboose barrels into him. His breath escapes in a hard exhale as Caboose lifts him off his feet and beams at him. Caboose’s words come out in an excited rush.

“ _Church, you are so smart! Sheila and I took Freckles for a walk, and then we had hot chocolate, well, Sheila and I did because chocolate is bad for Freckles, and it was so nice and Sheila is so nice and it's all thanks to you_ \--”

“Huh,” Tucker says beside them. “Guess you weren’t kidding.”

“I told you,” Church tries to say, but it comes out as a breathless wheeze. It’s a relief when Caboose sets him down, if just so he can breathe again.

“Good morning, Caboose,” Sheila says from behind them.

Somehow Caboose’s face lights up even more. “Hi, Sheila.”

Tucker stares between them as Sheila smiles the same smile from Caboose’s bedroom. He shakes his head and then sidles over to Church. He looks amused and confused, but mostly amused. “Okay, I am still mad he got a girlfriend before me, but also? Valentine's Day is gonna be _hilarious_.”

“Seriously, what did I miss this weekend?” Niner demands.

**Author's Note:**

> **Dishonorable Mention**
> 
> 4x04 - The Mortal Truth
> 
> We all love Salem. Which means that the writers really screwed up when they made an episode involving Salem finding out Simmons is actually mortal somehow boring. Plus, I guess they wanted Kai to keep thinking Simmons was a delusional witch, so they have her MIA without any explanation. And the writers forgot that it would be indoor track in the middle of January in Massachusetts, not outside, for a boring storyline for Carolina. Just a dull episode!


End file.
